


420.

by thewinterking



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: 420, Dank, Flash Fic, Ganja - Freeform, M/M, Soldier Enhancement Program, Weed, actual drugs, mary jane, that good good, unbetad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 10:57:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14377206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewinterking/pseuds/thewinterking
Summary: Thisis how it should have been.





	420.

**Author's Note:**

> don't read this if you're under 18 and/or you think weed is bad.
> 
>  
> 
> everyone else... [**proceed...**](https://pbs.twimg.com/profile_images/834978723149447172/-pe9YWrw_400x400.jpg)

 

 

“What the fuck, Morrison?”

“Huh?” Jack slurs.

“This,” Gabriel says, brandishing the newly rolled joint, “is the best goddamn joint I’ve ever seen.”

Jack sinks back into his seat with a lazy smile. His eyes are so lidded that Gabriel can’t tell if he’s even looking his way. “Aww. That’s nice. Thanks, man.”

“I don’t get it. You’re fuckin’ _gone_ and you roll this good.”

“What do you think we grow in Indiana?”

Gabriel’s brain short circuits. His lips hang open. The whole of him has gone still and Jack seizes the moment to pluck the joint from his fingers.

“I’m sorry...?” Gabriel asks, temporarily winded.

Jack doesn’t immediately answer. It takes him three good tries before the flame takes to the bud. Then, it’s smoking thick and grey. Jack inhales deep and sinks into the couch. He nearly takes up the whole thing with his spread legs and strewn arms.

“I love weed.”

“Yeah,” Gabriel says absently. “Can we go back to that last thing?”

“Which part?”

“Indiana.”

“What about it?”

“Holy _shit_ , Morrison.” Gabriel pulls himself up into a half squat, cranes over the table, and steals the joint away. “The part where you grew up on a weed farm.”

Jack cracks another crooked grin. This time his glossy teeth flash. “Not what we call them.”

Gabriel brings the joint to his mouth and takes a hit.

What the _fuck_.

He takes another hit. This one sinks into his lungs smoother than the last.

Really, what the _fuck?_

“This is,” Gabriel grounds out, “No, you listen to me, Morrison. You fucking listen to me.”

“I’m listening.”

“Shut up. Shut your damn mouth before I kiss it, Morrison. This is the _smoothest goddamn weed_ I’ve ever smoked.”

If possible, Jack grins wider. His hand comes up to lay over his heart, where he gives a gentle pat. Gabriel can practically hear the sentimental, _aw, thanks man_ in the gesture.

“You little shit. Hey. Hey Rodriguez. Sampson. Get the fuck over here,” Gabriel calls.

Rodriguez and Sampson passed out forty minutes ago, but Gabriel _really_ wants someone to look at Jack.

“Get the fuck over here and look at this little shit. Look at his goddamn face.”

Jack’s head lolls to his shoulder. He’s still smiling.

That makes Gabriel even _more_ angry. He hauls himself out of his chair again and assumes his bracing squat. One hand points Jack’s way. The other brings the joint back to his lips.

“You are a beautiful bastard,” Gabriel tells him. “Like a cherub.”

“A cherry?” Jack asks hopefully.

“Holy shit.” Gabriel straightens up, tossing his arms in the air. “Goddamn it, I’m in love. Holy shit. God is real and I’m gonna marry this fucker. God is real, _gracias Dios!_ ”

He signs the cross over himself twice and brings his palms together. “ _El Padre, el Hijo, el Espíritu Santo!_ Amen, amen, amen.”

“You like me, Gabe?”

Gabriel takes a final hit off the joint and crosses around the table. Jack tries to take the joint back, but Gabriel insists slotting the filter between his lips. He’s wasted. He needs the assistance.

“You son of a bitch.”

“I’m so confused, man.”

Gabriel takes Jack’s face in hand and plants a kiss on his forehead. Jack reacts with the slow slide of his eyes, which stare up with keen, albeit delayed, understanding.

“Haha, you like me. That’s gay.”

“ _You’re_ gay.”

“I am gay,” Jack concedes.

“Me too. Wanna get dinner sometime?”

Jack sits up and puts the joint in the ashtray. Gabriel quickly takes it back for himself.

“I dunno.”

“Why?”

“I think you’re just fuckin’ with me here, Gabe.”

Gabriel steps around Jack’s spread legs and sits beside him. He unrolls his big arm around Jack’s shoulders. “Jack, I want you to listen to me closely.”

Jack twists and leans back, so his head is nearly resting on Gabriel’s hand. He doesn’t look like he’s listening with all that fidgeting.

“Are you good?”

“No, this couch is lumpy.”

“Forget the couch. I need you to listen.”

“I’m listening.”

“I don’t think you are. I don’t think you’re listening to me, Jack.”

“I said you were fuckin’ with me and you told me to listen. I’m listening.”

“Holy _fuck_ , you _were_ listening. Sweet fucking Jesus, you’re perfect. Now, listen.”

“I _am_ listening,” Jack whines.

“Good, because I am going to _goddamn marry you_. We’re getting on a plane,” Gabriel ticks off his fingers, “we’re going to a chapel in Vegas and we’re getting married. It’s happening. I’m asking you if you want dinner first.”

Jack squints at him. When he doesn’t immediately answer, Gabriel lets the silence stretch on. He takes another hit. Jack won’t stonewall him forever. He’ll get his answer. He’s _Gabriel Reyes_. He knows how to manipulate the strongest wills with the right press of intensity and focus. The inexperienced don’t stand a chance, and right now he pours all that energy into Jack.

“... Alright. Wanna go to Chilis?”

“We’re not going to goddamn Chilis for our goddamn wedding rehearsal.”

“I meant right now. I’m hungry.”

“There’s no Chilis open right now, Jack. It’s three in the morning.”

“Denny’s, then. Good ole Denny’s.” Jack’s mouth smacks uncomfortably around the name. “My man Denny. _D-E_ double _N-Y_. I’m thinkin’ _Denny’s_.”

“That’s not the motto.”

“I’m thinkin’ _Arby’s_ ,” Jack corrects. Then, “Aw shit! Let’s go to Arby’s!”

“... Alright.”

Gabriel snuffs the joint out and lays it in the tray. He leans back into the couch, levels his scrutinizing stare Jack’s way, and brandishes his palm.

Jack eyes it suspiciously.

Gabriel wiggles his fingers, and that seems to do the trick. Jack takes it, lacing their hands together.

“Now,” Gabriel announces lofitly. “Let’s get some fuckin’ Arby’s.”

  


**Author's Note:**

> find me at @blackvvatch


End file.
